


Angel

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-06
Updated: 2009-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A show of willing submission makes a stressful day easier for Mohinder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> A gift fic for Perdiccas.

When Mohinder comes home from the lab well past his usual time, he's a visible knot of stress-- hair pushed flat in front from agitatedly rubbing his hands through it, shoulders tense, hands refusing to stay still. Gabriel barely looks up from the crossword puzzle he's working on before he abandons it on the couch, rising to his feet with concern clear in his eyes.

"Rough day?" Mohinder nods curtly, drops his messenger bag on the table and sighs.

"It's bad enough being given an impossible task, but having that man breathing down my neck the whole time..." He rolls his shoulders and winces. "I'd like to use _him_ as a test subject." Gabriel's lips quirk sympathetically, and he rests his hands on Mohinder's shoulders gently.

"I could take care of him for you," he jokes, and Mohinder turns just enough to give him a dark look. "Hey, I'm just trying to help."

"If you want to help me, meet me in the bedroom," Mohinder says quietly, leaning back against Gabriel's chest for a brief moment. "I need a shower and something to eat before I can feel like a person and not a research machine." Gabriel kisses the top of Mohinder's head, letting go when the smaller man moves away.

"There'll be sandwiches for you on the desk," Gabriel calls just before Mohinder closes the bathroom door; he gets a flash of brilliant smile, no less stunning for Mohinder's weariness, and finds himself smiling too as he pulls the peanut butter down from a cabinet and the strawberry jam from the back of the fridge.

There's a difference between doing things for Mohinder simply because he loves him, and doing things for Mohinder because of a firm tone and a stern gaze that both melt into chocolate-sweetness when Gabriel obeys. More and more often, Gabriel is finding that those reasons overlap, and he's okay with that, really; getting that pleased look is just as good outside of a scene as in it, and taking care of Mohinder comes naturally now. It started off as guilt, trying to make up for every hurt he inflicted in the past, but they've been together for long enough that Gabriel's motivation has changed and he knows it.

He leaves the sandwiches on a plate on Mohinder's desk, accompanied by a glass of chocolate milk; when the noisy shower pipes go silent just as Gabriel steps into the bedroom, he nods in satisfaction. Like clockwork. There's just enough time, no more than he needs: he hangs up his suit as he takes it off, pulls on soft cotton pants and a clean undershirt, and settles on his knees by the bed, with a minute for quiet, meditative breathing before Mohinder pads into the room on silent bare feet and closes the door behind him.

"You take such good care of me, angel," Mohinder tells him, and Gabriel opens his eyes to look up at Mohinder, peaceful and at ease in his role here. At first he didn't like Mohinder's pet name for him, but it wasn't his choice, and now Gabriel hears it as the endearment it was always meant to be, and not a mockery of who he had been. Mohinder's hair is damp and tangled around his face, the rest of him dry but bare aside from the towel around his hips. As soon as Mohinder comes closer Gabriel closes the space between them, leaning his head against Mohinder's side and waiting patiently for whatever his lover might want from him.

"The comb is on the dresser. Show me how gentle you can be with my hair." Phrased like orders but intoned like requests, Gabriel relishes the way Mohinder directs him with fondness and respect, how he takes control so easily and so completely without making Gabriel feel oppressed in his submission. When he turns back with the comb, Mohinder is sitting in the middle of the bed, watching Gabriel and smiling. "You're beautiful," he answers the questioning lift of Gabriel's eyebrows, "so graceful. I love to watch you move." He pats the bed beside him, and Gabriel feels too conscious of his own body as he finds his place next to Mohinder.

"I like you watching me," he says, inclining his head into Mohinder's touch when a dark hand cups his cheek. "You see things in me no one else can."

"Of course I do, angel. You're mine." Their lips meet, brief and warm and innocent. "And I'm yours. After all we've been through together, how could I possibly see you like the rest of the world does?" Once, that would have been a repudiation, the harshest rejection, but now... now, the words mean something entirely different, something that eases Gabriel's mind.

"Let me take care of your hair before it dries," he finally says, passing his long fingers through still-damp locks until they catch on tangles. Mohinder hums an agreement, shifting so his back is toward Gabriel, and tips his head backward a little. Gabriel can't resist the urge to run his palm down Mohinder's throat, from just under his chin to the plane of his breastbone, skin smooth and so warm. He can feel how the tension is already melting away from Mohinder's muscles, and how much more he still carries, and he's resolved to not letting this finish until Mohinder has the last of his day's troubles loosened and released. There's so much more to fixing Mohinder's tension than adjusting a tight spring or replacing a cog; his lover's body is Gabriel's favorite timepiece, inconsistent but always willing to let Gabriel maintain him.

Mohinder's hair is combed before Gabriel realizes he's done, and he lingers anyhow, wrapping limp locks around his fingers and smiling to see the loose curls they hold when he releases them. "Oh, that's nice," Mohinder breathes, swaying back against Gabriel as deft fingers play over his scalp, "you're so good, how did I get so lucky?"

"Trust me, I'm the lucky one," Gabriel says dryly, curling an arm around Mohinder's waist and drawing aside his hair to kiss the back of his neck. "Every day I wake up and you're still here, keeping me good... I do it for you, you know." He bows his head, forehead resting on Mohinder's shoulder, biting his cheek against the too-open admission.

"Gabriel..." Mohinder's voice is gentle to the point of nearly inaudible, but for the fact that Gabriel is so keenly aware of his presence. "On the floor before me, my angel, let me see you." Though he would much prefer to stay wrapped around Mohinder like this, Gabriel obeys at once, sliding off the bed and onto his knees, head lowered and breath held uncertainly. All his focus is on what's before him: Mohinder's shins, his knees, the damp drape of white terrycloth cloaking his thighs, the lap that is such a safe place for him to lay his head. "Oh, no..." Mohinder's fingers curl under Gabriel's chin and direct his face upward, until Gabriel can see his smile. "Don't look so sad, darling."

"I'm not sad." Worried is the right word, maybe even only concerned. If being close to Mohinder is a reward, then being separated from him is a punishment, but he hasn't done anything worth punishing...

"I only wanted to look at you," Mohinder reassures him, stroking a hand through Gabriel's hair as if petting a cat, soft and repetitive motions. "I know what you think, but you're not good because of me. You are wonderful, such a good boy..." Bending, Mohinder lets his lips brush Gabriel's ear and adds, "my perfect, gorgeous angel." Gabriel sighs, a tiny breath of relief, and turns to beg a kiss from Mohinder. The one he gets is brief, a press of soft lips and then a slight tug on his hair. "I'm exhausted, but you've made me feel so much better. Thank you, Gabriel."

It's not only gratitude, but the signal that Gabriel doesn't have to submit any longer. All it means for him, practically, is that he's free to bully Mohinder into going to bed soon. He stands up, arching his back and grunting as his spine cracks, and then nudges Mohinder's shoulders flat to the bed and pulls away the towel briskly. "Boxers or blowjob?" he asks, grinning harder when Mohinder laughs in surprise and drags Gabriel down to the bed with him.


End file.
